Not off the hook after all for the home water birth. Not just yet,
anyway. Structural engineer got back in touch to veto bedroom for the
birth pool. But said our smallest room - the hall - looks like it will
take the weight. Husband due to pick up pool, pipes, bleach, colander,
heating pad tomorrow evening. Will buy waterproof torch, anglepoise
lamp, waterproof sheeting at weekend. Scared? Me?
Unsure about giving birth in hallway. Doesn't feel quite right
somehow. Will it be sufficiently private? Can't even remember how much
privacy matters in childbirth. Is it a big issue? When was having
Beanie, midwife got concerned about daughter's heart rate. Army of
green-suited doctors, anaethetists and paediatricians entered through flowery curtain.
"Hello. Where have you all come from?" I asked.
"Did you not see your midwife press the emergency button?" one of them replied.
"Errr... no," I mumbled.
"Don't push," said the midwife, looking up from her notes. "Whatever you do, don't push."
"I'm not pushing!" I said, feeling like small child.
Funny the things you do remember; many of them were wearing clogs. But
seemed fine with that. Not embarrassed, the way I would have been. There were phone calls, booking a place in the resuscitation unit, asking if
theatre was free. No, we'd have to stay put. They brought out the
forceps (I didn't look at that bit). Hauled daughter out of me as fast
as they could. Beanie shrieked with displeasure as she emerged. I was a
bit sore afterwards. Relief on face of clog-clad paediatrician posted
down bottom end to greet Beanie. "Baby can go straight to mum," she
said.
After that drama, I liked idea of giving birth in tranquillity of
own bedroom, where, ahem, this whole project started back in October.
But do not want to become stupid and obstinate about home birth.
Read cautionary tale about woman who broke down in jealous hysteria
when she got text message saying sister-in-law had 'achieved' a home
birth. This woman described herself - no, defined herself - as
HWBA3C. Yes, my thoughts exactly. Stands for 'home water birth after
three Caesareans'. She claimed the Caesareans were violations
'inflicted on her in the name of medical science'.
Spoke to my midwife, whom I trust. Asked if true NHS does unnecessary interventions.
"Look at it from a practical point of view," she said. "The NHS is
careful with its resources. It has to be. There's not a lot of money
available and funding is always being squeezed. Nobody likes to make
things more complicated than they need to be. It's expensive to do a section. It's a question of beds and staff time. We only intervene when
necessary."
Friend whose wife had their second child last
year said: "It's the head count at the end that matters."
Childbirth Daughter Health Health workers Home birth Husband Water birth
Pregnant women are being advised not to drink any alcohol during the first three months of pregnancy by a health watchdog that last year said would-be mothers could drink a glass of wine every day. What is it that makes every man, dog and government quango think they have the right to pontificate on how about pregnant women and new mothers should manage our lives? And why can't they at least make their minds up about what they're telling us to do?
The Department of Health said in May last year pregnant women should stop drinking altogether. But the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence said a few months later there was no evidence a small glass of wine every day caused any harm after the first trimester. The obstetrician who chaired the group developing the latest abstinence guidelines has admitted the latest guideline changes are not based on any fresh scientific evidence, saying: "There's no evidence of definite harm of drinking that level of alcohol per week [a daily glass of wine] but we are unable to guarantee women that there will be no harm." As if pregnancy isn't hard enough already, you get bombarded with conflicting advice from medics more interested in covering their backs against lawsuits than in looking after vulnerable pregnant women.
Many women are going into labour underestimating how painful it can be and overly optimistic they will be able to manage without drugs, a study suggests. Researchers at the University of Newcastle found 'discrepancies' between women's expectations of labour - and their actual experiences. In England, around a quarter of women who give birth end up having an epidural, the spinal analgesia which eliminates the pain of contractions, although many did not plan on having one. "Of course it is important to have hopes for how you would like your labour to be. But those involved in providing ante-natal sessions, while listening to these, need to make sure that women are aware of how things may go and help them construct realistic expectations," says Joanne Lally, who led the research. "The problem with some of the courses out there is that they concentrate so much on doing it naturally that inevitably women feel as though they've done something wrong when those techniques aren't enough for them." The BBC quotes Anna Davidson of the Birth Trauma Association suggesting women should be less competitive with each other about how they give birth. "Ante-natal sessions do need to be more realistic - perhaps including women who have given birth and had very different experiences. But mothers themselves need to stop being so gladiatorial about what they managed to endure. We sometimes seem to forget that while childbirth is natural, women in the past regularly died as a result of it."
Pregnancy in the over 40s has reached a record high - proving how fashionable it's become to have children later in life. The conception rate has risen across women of all ages - but is most marked in the over 40s. Pregnancies have jumped up by more than 6% from 11.5 per 1,000 women aged 40-44 in 2005, to 12.2 last year. It's worth remembering that the over 40s still account for a tiny percentage of all births - around 3% - but that figure has tripled over recent years as more women, like myself, defer childbearing until later in life.
The Telegraph reports that the news will prompt 'fears that the growing number of older mothers is placing increased pressure on maternity units'. Writing as someone aged 40 and 21 weeks pregnant, you can imagine how thrilled I was to read that. It's such rubbish that older women are causing problems in the NHS.
Apart from going mental when I told a locum GP I was pregnant and she asked me (without looking away from her screen) if I was planning on continuing with my pregnancy, (I never went back to her) I follow all the instructions in pregnancy - little or no alcohol, sticking to (probably spurious) caffeine limits, no cold remedies, fear of pate and liver, obsession with pasteurisation, location of nearby hospitals etc. My roots are growing through grey; I'm too scared to risk hair colouring. Baths are tepid.
Every health professional I've interviewed for my book on being an
older mum, Fashionably Late, agrees that older mums are often less of a
problem to the health service because, like me, they're compliant and do as
they're told, like cutting out smoking, since they want the child so much. That leads to reduced (or zero) risk of complications like listeria infection, foetal alcohol syndrome, poor growth rates.
So it's a
bit rich to blame older mums for strains in the health service, whose
problems obviously go far beyond a few later starters like myself having babies
later on in life.
Needless to say, The Telegraph does not miss the opportunity to have a dig at women concentrating on their careers, claiming that when professional women return to work after having children they often move 'into jobs where the average employee lacks even A-levels'. Can this be true? It's not my experience - or that of my friends. But still, makes for grisly reading.
Older women are often attacked for their 'selfish' emphasis on 'careers' (for 'career' read, grafting away in some horrible job to pay rent/mortgage while being messed around by some bloke too immature to commit to family/children) but this means we've paid shedloads more in tax to fund the NHS. So why shouldn't we cash in our tax investment and get something back? Most of us won't be getting any tax relief on childcare expenses, or much in the way of government maternity benefits, (unlike in most European countries) so we might as well enjoy having our babies on the NHS.
Childbirth Fashionably Late - the book Older mother Health Pregnancy Work Work vs mothering
Shedworking, one of my favourite sites, is running a theatre review I wrote for them about a production of Walden, a one-man show from Magnetic North about a man who flees civilisation to live in isolation in a hut in the woods. It was great fun going to the theatre (they even gave me a complimentary press ticket, something I haven't enjoyed in years) and because I went on my own I chatted to other people in the audience afterwards. Nothing to do with late parenting, but a mini-highlight of the weekend.
Somewhat closer to home, Va-vay, Beanie and I went to our local Home Birth Support Group at the
weekend. Beanie was entranced when a pregnant lady stuck her tongue out
at her (in a friendly way) - and revealed a rather splendid tongue
piercing. I knew I needed the Support Group after I told a friend last
week I was planning a home birth and she said: "What if you die?" My
friend, who is not from this country, then said: "Well, maybe compared
to an NHS hospital birth it is the best thing to do." Huh. It's one thing for me to criticise the NHS, but I don't like it when other people do. The Support
Group nodded and smiled when I recounted all this, before bursting into tears, and said they hear this kind of thing a lot. They said that
statistically home births are safer than hospitals. That people who are
negative about you having a home birth are often just worried for you.
Beanie beamed as I sat cross-legged on the floor, weeping, then made
friends with a small boy wearing a T-Shirt saying "Born at Home". Although not yet two years old herself, Beanie loves pointing out "babies" she sees out and about, saying the word "baby" in great excitement, as if the child in question belongs to a different generation from herself. When in fact there's an age gap of twelve months between them. She
spent the rest of the event cuddling the "baby". His mum was there too. Alive and
well.
Other News
A friend is organising a fertility afternoon at the Aditi Yoga Centre
in Edinburgh on Sunday 2 March from two till five. This is a chance to
hear expert speakers on how to improve the chances of becoming
pregnant, maintaining a healthy pregnancy and much more. Topics
covered include acupuncture, chinese herbal medicine, homeopathy, mind
and the body, natural ovulatory cycle, nutrition and yoga. Open to
all. Donation £5 per person.
Activities Angst Childbirth Daughter Dilemmas Friends Fun Health Home birth Out and about Pregnancy
Story in today's Times about how Louise Redknapp, the former pop singer and wife of footballer Jamie, spent years trying to overcome her endometriosis to have a child. I'm not normally into all the Victoria Beckham/WAG stuff, but surprisingly enough Redknapp comes across in the article as a nice, sensible person and I was glad for her that she had her baby in the end. Now she and Jamie are considering trying for another baby. But Redknapp tells the Times she won’t prepare for pregnancy with special diets or exercise: “I think the minute I mentally work myself into a frenzy, it won’t happen. So I’m just not going to think about it and hope for the best.” Good luck to them.
Pregnant women and pre-school children are to be given free fruit, as part of a Scottish government £40m initiative to tackle obesity over the next three years. I'm hoping this means a fruit basket could be on its way over as I type.... I could quite fancy a kiwi, mango or papaya with my tea.
Anybody planning on giving birth in Edinburgh might be interested to know about the city's Birth Resource Centre. They have birth preparation days for couples, pre- and post-natal yogal classes, a library of useful pregnancy and birth books (I've got my eye on The Water Birth Book by Janet Balaskas) and a support group for home births. More importantly, their staff are warm and kind. And they rent birthing pools. Last time I was pregnant I dragged Va-vay along to NCT lessons - and we were lucky enough to meet a great crowd of people, almost all of whom we still meet up with regularly. Life would have been pretty dismal without the NCT crowd, who've provided company and good cheer over the past couple of years. I hope they don't mind me saying that. But Va-vay and I were slackers during the actual lessons - we kept skiving off for dinners out, thinking (correctly) we wouldn't have much chance to go out once the baby arrived. Va-vay is also incorrigibly private - and curled up with embarrassment at discussing pregnancy in front of people he didn't know at the time. Not my problem, really. It's more getting me to shut up that's my issue, especially when I get nervous. But, anyway, my knowledge of childbirth and labour positions is sketchy - though I have no-one to blame but myself. This time I'm going to try and learn up a bit more. Less skiving. More swotting.
Childbirth Friends Health Home birth New baby Out and about Pregnancy Water birth Books
Article in The Times saying just two cups of coffee per day could cause miscarriage. "The main message for pregnant women is that they probably should consider stopping caffeine consumption during pregnancy," says the scientist who led the US study.
Pat O’Brien, a consultant obstetrician at University College Hospital, London, and spokesman for the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists, is quoted saying: “This is the best evidence we now have on the subject and I will advise patients to avoid caffeine completely, at least for the first 12 weeks of pregnancy. Good studies have shown it may be safer to drink caffeine after that, but no more than 200 mg a day is still to be recommended.”
The Times helpfully gives caffeine doses:
(caffeine in a 150ml drink):
100mg in coffee
39mg in tea
15mg in a caffeinated soft drink such as cola
2mg in hot chocolate
2mg in decaffeinated coffee
I didn't have a problem with coffee during the pregnancy I lost. But I couldn't bear the taste or smell of coffee in the first trimester with this baby - maybe nature's way of keeping the pregnancy safe. Nowadays I manage the odd cup. And I couldn't imagine life without a morning cup of tea. Nectar.
What do you think of the new caffeine limits? Could you/did you stick to them in pregnancy?
Piece in the Telegraph today saying we are evolving to have more children later in life. To help us stay fertile longer we will be less troubled by diseases such as type 2 diabetes, heart problems and obesity that occur in middle age and beyond.
Professor John Hawks, the anthropologist who led the team of scientists behind the research, told the paper that genes allowing us to stay fertile for longer, as we delay having children, seem more important than living longer in itself.
"The trend has been towards later reproduction," Hawks told the Telegraph. "Many people wait to have kids until they are in their late 30s to 40s. But very few people lived in their 40s more than 50,000 years ago. That's a big biological change. So genes that impede fertility at later ages must be experiencing stronger and stronger selection pressure."
Hawks continued: "The bottom line: people are unlikely to live much longer in the future - at least, due to genetic changes - but they are likely to be better at having kids older."
Music to my ears.
Beanie's teething problems continue unabated, causing her to wake in the night and refuse to settle.
About 5.50am she signalled to her father in no uncertain terms that her morning had started.
"I was woken up this morning with a kick in the head," said Va-vay later, rather plaintively.
If I hadn't suspected he was playing for effect, I might have been more sympathetic.
This posting was meant to be all about a trip Beanie and I made yesterday to visit a local attraction that opens to the public only a handful of times every year. This local well features some fine mosaics, statues and columns and we had a good visit to its dank interior, despite the notice warning the water was 'unfit for human consumption'. Someone had thought to put tea lights around the pump, which gave the well an atmospheric, almost religious feel. Beanie made friends with a Scots terrier called Toby.
I say 'meant to be' because shortly after we got home Beanie was ferrying some toys from a basket in the window over to me when she tripped on a cushion, fell and cut open her forehead on the coffee table, blood spurting everywhere. She looked so indignant and shocked, as much as anything else, it broke my heart. It happened in an instant, as we heard people warning these things would do.
Luckily, there's not been too much damage. She calmed down quite quickly before I drove her to hospital, where they saw her almost immediately and patched her up. They don't think there'll be much of a scar, and with luck the cut will heal in a few days. Seeing some of the other children there and the state they were in, I began to wonder if I was making too much of a fuss, since I was crying more than Beanie by this point. Beanie's Grandad came over to lend moral support, since Granny was out on the golf course, in a fight-to-the-death with other members of the Veteran Ladies team, and Va-vay was away.
Talk about stable doors/bolting horses, but last night I taped some old towels to the table corners to prevent a repeat. As for Beanie, she has recovered her old jubilance and now looks quite the proper member of a pirate crew, sporting a bandage over her left eye, which she scratches at from time to time.
I accidentally plunged into the world of obstetrics again yesterday, in what was meant to be a break from hard-core mothering, during a lunchtime talk at the tented International Book Festival from writers Janice Galloway and Alan Warner on their launch of a not-for-profit publisher in Edinburgh called Long Lunch Press. Galloway and Warner set up Long Lunch with Arts Council funding to ensure an audience for unusual writing they believe deserves to reach the public but that wouldn't attract a commercial publisher.
Hearing this, I was sorely tempted to put my hand up and recommend blogs for the purpose of reaching readers but managed to refrain. However Vanessa at Fidra Books has plenty to say on the subject of not-for-profit publishing in this forthright and shrewd account
of why she doesn't think publishing that sneers at profit makes any sense - and why instead of producing
unread pamphlets Long Lunch should be promoting their work here on the net.
In keeping with the theme of unusual subject matter, Galloway read to us from Rosengarten, her prose-poem discussing the obstetric tools of child birth. It was the difficulty of finding a publisher prepared to accept this
decidedly difficult account of childbirth that prompted Galloway to set
up her new publishing venture.
When Galloway told her audience there was to be a reading about
obstetrics, I must admit I thought what the many commercial publishers
who turned it down obviously did too. And after the reading one couple got up and left,
the woman white-faced.
But now I've had to time to get used to the
idea, I rather like Rosengarten, which sheds light on a closed world. Stick with me here while I quote from the book, I was initially shocked too, but it's worth persevering.
"This is the business of life
with death, two balances in
precise relation. This is the
business of drawing air and
of drowning fluids, of
slickness and dry compression. Of making
two from one, of nerves
and channels, down and
muscle and veins. Of dark
to light, a business carried
out under the broil of
woollen covers, a business
of touch and steel and
random happenstance
There is bleeding of course.
And splitting and aweful surrender."
For their research, Galloway and her co-author studied obstetric implements, mainly forceps, through the ages, hunting through cases at the Wellcome Museum of Anatomy and Pathology, the Edinburgh College of Surgeons and the Hunterian Museum . Their conclusion? "Raking about... showed how little over centuries the basic designs of the implements have changed."
Maybe the implements themselves remain unchanged, but one aspect of obstetrics that could usefully change is the continuing secrecy and embarrassment about the process of childbirth. Perhaps women do deserve to hear more about what childbirth is really like, and it would be worth overcoming our natural squeamishness for that to happen. Our ante-natal classes were great for making friends, but I learnt little that was useful about the actual birth, then spent months afterwards in shock.
Then again, if someone had presented me with a copy of Rosengarten in pregnancy, would I have wanted to know? Nowadays, of course, I'm fascinated by anyone prepared to talk frankly about childbirth, even if it happens unexpectedly.
Breastfeeding Health Pregnancy Blogging Childbirth Festival Books Dilemmas
The children of working mothers are more likely to be obese or overweight, says a new study. Around a quarter of the 13,000 children studied by the Institute of Child Health in London were overweight or obese by the age of three. No prizes for guessing who's allegedly to blame.
"Long hours of maternal employment, rather than lack of any money, may impede young children's access to healthy foods and physical activity," said the researchers.
The more successful mothers are, the worse the problem, which I find hard to believe. Children in households earning £22,000 to £33,000 were 10% more likely to be overweight than in households earning under £11,000.
In the last 25 years stay-at-home mothers have fallen from nearly 55% of the total to just 21%.
Reading studies like this, I wonder why working mothers seem to attract more flak than convicted criminals/fraudsters/estate agents.
What's behind these studies that attempt to guilt-trip hard-working and loving mothers, doing their best to keep a roof over their families' head?
Why don't we see reports criticising the government for lack of affordable, flood-free UK housing that would mean more mums could stay at home?
Or a study calling for better-paid, higher-status part-time jobs, with more flexible working, that would mean fewer parents have to work full-time?
Or more criticism of the food giants that make their money peddling fatty convenience foods to young kids?
Leave us mums alone, I say.
So the smoking ban means the last, die-hard English smokers will have to huddle on pavements, unable to find shelter while they enjoy their gaspers.
It's all very well, but I'm worried the Westminster government hasn't quite thought through the consequences of this smoking ban. Let me explain why.
Ten days after the smoking ban became law here in Scotland last March I was lying in a labour suite at the local hospital, nine and a half months pregnant with The Bean, waiting for a doctor to hasten her reluctant arrival into this world.
It was a nervous time. Not least because it was only when they wheeled in a plastic cot that I finally had to come to terms with the fact this pregnancy lark was going to result in a BABY.
Up until that cot appeared, all the ante-natal classes and pregnancy books had given me the impression I might be sitting an exam in beginners' obstetrics. No need to worry about actually giving birth myself.
Frankly, as the birth approached, the exam seemed like the easier option.
I lay there, strapped to a monitor, my husband's clammy palm clasping mine. The unmistakeable smell of tobacco drifted in through the open hospital window.
Me: "Mmmmm... is someone smoking out there?"
After giving up smoking about eleven years previously, by last year I'd hardly thought about it. But desperate times, desperate measures - and all that.
Husband: "Might be. Let me have a look."
Husband (frown on face): "Yes, there's a man smoking out there. Smokers have to go outside now, don't they, with this ban. Would you like me to go down and have a word with him? Tell him to move away?"
Me: "No! Don't do that. He'll go soon enough."
Then, disingenuous: "Stay here and keep me company. You don't want to miss any of the action."
A few minutes passed. What would those contractions be like when they finally arrived, hurried along by their cocktail of artificial hormones, I fretted?
When the NCT teacher said 'agony', might she be exaggerating?
How would I cope with being a mum? Oh hellfire.....
Me (inhaling deeply): "Could you open the window a bit wider?"
The Bean is scrabbling at a kitchen cupboard door that her dad and I have barred against her. She tugs at the shiny cream surface,
tugs again harder, loses her balance, teeters for a moment, then falls backwards onto her
bottom. She emits a shriek of distress and indignation. Mishaps like this happen
approximately twenty times daily, but don't normally bother her. On
this occasion, however, because she is tired, the fall causes her alarm
and distress. It is 9.30am, and we both know she is upset because she's now been up for two and a half hours and is
due her morning nap. I silently wonder again how the researchers of a large US university could have decided in their infinite wisdom that letting young children nap could be harmful for them.
Looking smaller than usual sat down on the floor, she lifts up her arms to signal she wants to be held. I bend down to pick her
up, cuddle her close to me, and carry my small, disconsolate daughter
through to her bedroom, where I draw the window shutters, and lay out
her sleep bag in her cot ready for her. She is too tired even to demand
to play with her dreamcatcher or inspect her flowery chicken mobile
that hangs from the ceiling. Go straight to the cot. Do not pass the
toy basket. Do not pause to play with festive Santa bib.
I lift her into the cot, get her left arm into the hole of the sleep
bag, then manage to remove her right-hand thumb from her mouth long
enough to get the other arm into the bag. In another well-honoured part
of our morning ritual she reaches out for the well-chewed form of Mr
Bear, her faithful bed-time companion, clutches him to her, and
reinserts her thumb in her mouth. "I'll be back when you've had a
sleep," I tell her, but she's not listening. She's already shut her
eyes, curled onto her side, and is slurping on her thumb, zoned out.
Every morning that The Bean is at home (not nursery) she has a nap on similar lines to this one
she had this morning. Not just so that I can use the time to clean, do
emails, chat on the phone or catch up on work, though, my goodness, it's great to have the chance to do that, but because she needs
the rest, otherwise life becomes too much for her. She hasn't got the energy yet to get through a full day without a sleep top-up.
But woe betide me! For now research from Florida University says that
daytime napping prevents children sleeping well at night - and could even
impair mental performance. They say children's puzzle-solving abilities can deteriorate when they take longer daytime naps. I might have known it. Is there no area of parenting free of some controversial new recommendation? Pregnancy, toys, food, sleep.... none of it simple, all filled with advice from the so-called 'experts'. Who could be more 'expert' on whether my daughter needs a nap than me and her?
Now, I haven't read the
full findings of the Florida survey, which I'm sure is well-intentioned and thoroughly researched. I read a summary of its findings over on Mumsnet. But the
idea that day-time naps are harmful completely contradicts my personal
experience. There's no way The Bean - 14 months old - could cope with a
day lasting from 7am to 7pm without at least one nap. She'd be hysterical and grumpy.
This latest research into naps reminds me of last week's story that
pureed food was bad for babies. What have we parents done to deserve so
many scare stories that overturn so much received wisdom? Maybe the
answer is that young (well, okay, I'm no spring chicken, nearly 40, so not that young)
parents are a good target market for this material - you know, largely
clueless, impressionable, desperate to do their best, lacking
instruction manual or, indeed, clear instructions from the child
herself. Ready to listen to anything that promises The Solution. Well, that's what I'm like, though in fairness I've gained a lot in confidence over the past months.
But it seems like the advice to parents changes all the time. This year's
new parents are told to put baby to sleep on his back, scared witless by stories about what might happen if they don't. The previous generation was given exactly the same lines about how babies should sleep on their fronts, for the same reasons. In another ten years the 'experts' will doubtless change the advice again - but stick with the same dire warnings.
What really gets to me is that all these
parenting gurus like to impart their advice with the message that if
you don't follow it to the letter, disastrous consequences will ensue - with the pureed food research the authors said babies could get addicted to gloop, constipated and eventually obese. That surely can't be true, can it? In this instance, it's the threat of impaired mental performance. I don't know. Maybe they're right, and I'm stupid and cynical to suspect otherwise. What do other people think? Are we right to give our children day-time naps? Are we being preyed on by a parenting advisory industry?
Only a month after Patricia Hewitt, the Health Secretary, outlined
plans to guarantee expectant mothers a "full range of birthing choices"
by 2009 it seems the reality is that some women might be lucky if they
get a qualified midwife or doctor to deliver their baby.
A report for the Department of Health has revealed that NHS
trusts using maternity support workers to do the work of trained
midwives could be putting the safety of mothers and babies at risk.
The study found that several trusts are converting midwife positions
into posts for lesser-qualified maternity support workers. The news has
clearly got medical bigwigs worried - it's prompted Christine Beasley,
the Chief Nursing Officer, to remind all trusts it's a legal
requirement for a registered midwife or doctor to deliver every baby.
The idea of using maternity support workers was that they would free
midwives up to do the jobs that only they are trained to do, (it takes
three years to train as a midwife) but it seems that in the
hard-pressed NHS they've taken a good idea too far, with these workers
assuming responsibility for tasks they're not qualified to do.
Personally, I have huge admiration for maternity support workers - they
were the women who got me through long, sleepless nights in hospital as
I struggled with breastfeeding, propped me up when I fainted in the
shower after giving birth, and admired my daughter like she was the first newborn they'd
seen in a year. Despite their long hours and lousy pay they were
endlessly good-natured and kind.
But still... it's not my idea of a "birthing choice" to do without a midwife or doctor while giving birth, sorry Mrs Hewitt.
Read more at
The Royal College of Midwives
The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists
National Childbirth Trust
The NCT has lots of good information on birth options.